


The Split Bean

by Elizabeth234



Series: Irondad Bingo: Alternative Universe [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Tony Stark, Barista uniform is the new domino mask, Coffee Shops, Gen, Irondad, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, references to alcoholism, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth234/pseuds/Elizabeth234
Summary: By day he was billion, superhero, genius, Tony Stark. By night he was a barista at The Split Bean coffee shop.What happens when one of his regulars, Peter Parker, has an unusual request?
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad Bingo: Alternative Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775485
Comments: 18
Kudos: 169





	1. Preface: Tony Finds a Job

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Hope you are doing well. 
> 
> Here is the entry for Iron Dad Bingo for Coffee Shop :)
> 
> This will have multiple chapters. Hope you enjoy!

While everyone on Earth knew of his secret identity as Iron Man. No one, not even Pepper, knew of his other secret identity as barista at The Split Bean.

It happened like most things in Tony’s life. A split-second decision followed by a large serving of fate and pure luck.

He’d been alone and slouched over the desk in his lab. One hand held a new prototype of one of the Starkpads he was working on and the other gripped a glass. Tony cracked one bloodshot eye open and stared at the amber liquid swirling around the glass.

Checking with Friday he realized it was past midnight and he had no memory of how long he’d been working or when he’d fallen asleep. That pattern of unawareness; of falling so quickly he wasn’t even aware the ground was gone was becoming tiresome.

Tony was exhausted.

His hands trembled and he watched in stillness as the glass tipped over. Liquid spilled across the table soaking all the papers and equipment in its path. The image burned into his mind as he thought of every way his drinking affected his life. The careful way Pepper folded her napkin over and over at dinner or the eye rolls his employees would when they thought he wasn’t looking when he stumbled in late for a meeting. Rhodey would straight up scold him and he ignored the truth in his friend’s words.

Backing away from the table, Tony stumbled to the window. His hands braced on the glass. The city below buzzed with life. People, subways, billboards. He was distanced from the movement alone in the tower. His heart didn’t beat with the rise and fall of the city’s anymore and the longer he watched it, the more he wanted to down. The more he yearned for some feeling besides the ache habituating in his chest.

In the end it was a piece of cowardice, a lie he told himself, that got him out the door.

_You can have one more drink if you walk._

He told himself the phrase with repeated reassurance as he entered the elevator and exited the building. Phone, keys, and jacket all left inside the tower and Tony had never been so untethered. The air swept passed him and through his clothes as he walked.

Tony walked through the night until the sun peaked out from behind the sky. His legs ached but his mind was clear. As he entered his floor again he fell into bed not reaching for the liquor cabinet despite his mantra before.

The next night he walked and the one after that. He acclimatized himself to the people and stores, learning where the popular place was for the average person and what neighborhoods played the best music at night.

A month after this ritual began, Tony he arrived back at his floor. His mind hadn’t cleared with the air outside. The fog remained heavy in the dark crevices behind his eyes. Instead of feeling the muscles pinch in his legs or his eyes droop with the good kind of fatigue, Tony sat on the couch and stared at the amber liquid.

Temptation was too strong.

Tony woke up on the couch, drool on the pillow underneath him and empty bottle mocking him from the table. His head pounded under the pellets of the shower.

He shouted at Pepper that day even though she’d placed a blanket on him in the morning. Even though she was still there for him. Once night came he paced across the wood flooring, eyes roaming with dangerous intent over everything besides what was really calling to him.

_You can have one more drink if you walk. Just get out the door._

It wasn’t a lie anymore so much as a plea. If he could make it out the door he would find something to occupy his mind. Something other than those bottles and their contents.

He couldn’t do it.

Tears leaked from his eyes the next morning and the one after that when he found himself in the same spot come morning. Bottles scattered across the table and his aching body, shivering and alone. The blanket was wrapped around him again. Almost shielding him from himself, but it would have to come off sometime.

A week later, Tony tore himself away. He stumbled out not hearing Friday’s voice or reading the texts from his phone.

Somehow, he got onto the subway. Out of breath and in sweatpants Tony melted into a seat on the train. He exhaled a sigh and almost smiled to himself. On and on he sat and watched the other occupants. Stops blurred by and still he sat there.

Another burst of fate nudged him forward and at random he exited the train. He passed by crumbling brick and signs hanging from their attachments. There was apartment buildings and stores, all dark at the late hour.

Then he saw the neon sign which shone like a lighthouse beacon in a storm.

_Help Wanted._

Warm air blasted on his face when he entered the doorway and with quick steps Tony journeyed farther into the shop. He had no need for more money but there was this pull dragging him forward and into the shop. Coffee beans and mild desperation wafted through the air. People milled about bent over laptops of head deep in a book sitting in various sized and shaped chairs all over the small café.

A man named Doug greeted him from behind the counter and seeing the worn-down set of Tony’s shoulders, set him up in the corner seat of the café. Doug sat with him when he wasn’t tending to customers. His grey beard catching on the end of the table every time he leaned forward to whisper some gossip about another person to Tony. 

“What brings you in to The Split Bean?” He asked after refilling Tony’s mug.

He shrugged and brought the warm mug between his hands, fiddling with the handle. There was no honest answer he could give to the man. He was here and that small fact was a miracle in itself. Doug seemed to understand everything left unsaid and his eyes knowingly roamed along Tony’s stooped frame.

“Ah, I see.” The man said and with a clap on the shoulders left Tony to his coffee.

Tony stayed all night, warm and snug in the corner. He watched the occasional passerby outside, how they hurried away from the cool breeze, and the other patrons of the café working on their various exploits.

Before he knew it, it was the end of the night. Tony was the only customer left, as it was before the morning rush. He set the cup in the bin designated dirty dishes and grabbed another rag. He and Doug wiped down the tables, sweeping underneath to get all the crumbs.

"You looking for a job?” He said, leaning against one of the tables.

Tony chuckled and shook his head. The thought was ridiculous. He was Tony Stark. There was enough money hidden in the pantry wall for him to be comfortable for the rest of his life. He was a superhero. Iron Man could not serve people their flat whites or caramel macchiatos. Iron Man saved the world, multiple times. He was also a genius. It was beneath him to stoop to this level. Not even at MIT did he even buy coffee from café.

Maybe those were the reasons he should. Tony Stark. Iron Man. They were both floating, disconnected from the day to day happenings of the Earth. He wasn’t those people, not really. They were icons and had grown beyond his own struggling person.

Tony looked around the space. It wasn’t special by any standards. Small and mismatched were two words he thought would describe it. But then he thought of the view from his floor in the Tower. Nothing mattered there. He didn’t care for any of the curated art pieces or the expensive furniture. He was a stranger in his own home.

The detachment he was running from rose up like an unleashed dam in his stomach. It swarmed up in his throat and Tony’s breath caught. His laughter stopped abruptly. This could be the pull he was feeling. It had to be guiding him to this place for some reason.

In all of a second Tony decided to change his fate. 

Doug was done wiping down and moved to grab a bag of coffee beans from a tall shelf. His wrinkled hands reached above his head, wavering before the man flinched back.

“Gosh darn.” He muttered. Doug rested into the counter, rubbing his back.

Tony marched to him and pointed at one of the bags. With a nod from Doug he grabbed it down and poured it into the machine.

“I was serious, you know.” Doug said. “I’m not as young as I used to be and you seem… well, you seem like you could use something to do. Pays not great but I need some help. What do you say?”

It was the polite way of saying Tony looked like a fucking mess, but he couldn’t fault the man for saying it in a polite way. Most wouldn’t.

“You know what? Sure, I would appreciate the opportunity.” He said, trying not to think about his latest relapse or the disappointed face Pepper gave him this morning.

That was how Tony found himself taking the subway to Queens every night to work as a barista at the Split Bean Café.

It was also the same sprig of fate that led a young Peter Parker into the café one night six months later and into Tony’s life.


	2. Tony Finds the Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One in which Peter decides to adopt Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is the next chapter! :) Hope you enjoy.

The cover he built up wasn’t blown yet. 

It was surprising, and he was slightly worried about the people’s judgment, how much a collared uniform, apron, and no glasses concealed his identity better than his typical Starkfit as Rhodey called it. His preferred form of going incognito was a baseball cap and sunglasses but they didn’t work nearly as well as his Split Bean visage. The pin Doug gave him with his name engraved in the metal completed the barista outfit. 

His shifts at the Bean became a necessary part of his schedule. The hours gave him a direction, given it was small, but it was for him. 

His regulars greeted him with a smile no matter how grueling their days were. Sally ordered a regular whipped chai latte to get through her nursing shifts and he pumped an extra shot into Qadan’s coffee on his drive home from work. 

He was Anthony there as stated on his pin. A plain guy working to make a living. Doug and him reminisced about past lives. They commemorated Doug’s passed partner with a makeshift Irish coffee before his shift one night, talked about his distanced daughter, and discussed the vague details Tony was willing to part with. 

It was with the encouragement from Doug that Tony went to his first meeting. The man had given Tony his own silver chip. His wrinkled hands trembling as he handed the coin to Tony with steeled eyes. 

“You do this for that girl you’ve got back home.” He’d said. Doug closed his hands around Tony’s fingers. “Most important though is you do this for yourself. You’re a good kid, a hard-worker and you will be after this too.” 

Meetings came and went. It was hard and Tony struggled but The Bean was there for him. Pepper was there for him. 

He was doing it. For Pepper, for himself, and that’s all that mattered.

This particular evening began no different than any other in the past six months. 

Tony got off the subway a stop early and walked the rest of the way to the shop trying to expend some excess energy before his shift. He stared at the lights and people as he walked down the sidewalk. His eyes lingered on the advertisements outside a liquor store on his way. Fingers clenched around the chip in his pocket but he continued to walk forward. 

He would be late if he stopped now. 

Keep walking. 

At the café he donned an apron and settled behind the counter. He tapped his pocket feeling the outline of the disk and wiped down the counter. Doug made his way to the back after checking in on him. 

Sally was the first guest of the night. She ordered a shot of expresso citing that her son kept her up the night before with a case of ‘exorcist-like vomit.’ A line of people followed and the café went into the quieter hours. 

Tony was left to restock between cleaning and refilling drinks. 

The doorbell chimed. Bent over a case of cups, Tony yelled a welcome and finished up his task. 

“I’ll be with you shortly.” He said. 

Job done, he smoothed down his apron and turned to the counter. 

He racked his brain and didn’t remember ever seeing the boy in front of him before. Large doe eyes peered at him from a face painted with freckles exacerbated under the lights of the shop. His hands fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves as he mumbled something Tony didn’t catch. Those impossibly wide eyes darted from the menu back to Tony. 

“What can I get you?” He said. 

“Can I please have just a black coffee. Small, please.”

Tony smirked and typed in the order on the tablet. 

“And can I see some ID?” The boy’s face drained of color before his brows crunched together. “I’m kidding, kid. We don’t serve alcohol here and I doubt you’re old enough anyway.”

“Oh.” He responded and Tony saw him slide his ID back into his pocket. “Yeah, I’m not.”

He snorted. 

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

He watched as the kid took out a small leather pouch and counted out the three dollars in quarters.

“Sorry.” He said under his breath as Tony plopped them into the register. 

“You gave me an extra dollar.” Tony extended his arm forward but the kid made no move to take the money. He shuffled back and forth, and looked up at him from under the mop of curly hair on his head. 

“You can keep it.” He turned his back on Tony. 

“Hold on there, kid.” He said and the boy stopped, retracing his steps so Tony could see the bright flush on his cheeks. “I’m not allowed to take tips.” He held up his hands and waited.

“Really. It’s okay.” 

His statement wasn’t strictly true. Tips were encouraged amongst all the baristas but he declined them and if the person was adamant, he would give them to another barista working at the time. Tony smiled and slid the money into his apron. 

“I also didn’t get your name.”

Tony held up the cup for his order at the frown the kid made. 

“Oh, uh, it’s Peter.” 

“Thanks, Peter. Order coming up.”

The kid glanced as him nodding before walking to where the drinks were served. 

Tony poured his black coffee and watched as he settled down in the very seat he sat in at the café. Peter grabbed a laptop covered in dents, one Tony was sure was popular when he was in grad school, out of his backpack. 

Throughout the next rush Tony’s attention came back to the kid sitting in the corner seat. He nursed the original cup of coffee for all the money it was worth. His fingers never rested for more than a minute as he worked early into the morning. 

The end of his shift neared and the café was nearly empty besides a few stragglers. The morning people, Tony shuddered, wouldn’t come until his replacement came in. He didn’t know if he would get along as well with the morning crowd. 

He finished wiping crumbs and splotches of drinks off the counter and tossed the rag back into the bucket hidden behind the trash. Tony grabbed the pitched of black coffee. The kid’s eyes didn’t move from the screen he was engrossed in until after Tony poured him another cup. His hand came up to wave Tony off. 

“But, I can’t…” 

“On the house, kid” Tony said winking. He went back to wiping down the tables ignoring the tremble in his hand. The growing itch in the back of his neck. 

At five a.m. the kid moved from his station. He closed his laptop tucking it away into a backpack with duct tape holding the straps together and stood up from the chair. Trash was thrown into the bin and Peter brought his cup to the counter to clear his table. 

“Have a nice day.” Tony called as he spotted Peter leaving. 

The kid stopped with his hand on the door and cocked his head enough so Tony could see a small smile on his face. He waved and was gone before Tony blinked. 

Past six Doug came in bagels for everyone working and Tony grabbed one before he headed out. 

He walked down the street, bagel in hand, yawning. The sun glinted beyond the buildings of the city and Tony thought about the kid bent over the laptop in the small café. How he insisted on tipping Tony when his backpack was on its very last thread. 

Pepper smiled when he slid onto the couch beside her. 

“Are you going to tell me where you were?” She said and passed him a glance of orange juice. Tony noticed how her eyes still strayed to the liquid cabinet and tried to quell the knot in his stomach. 

“You would never believe me” He said and gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading to bed.

-

“Ma’am, it’s a better deal if you get the medium latte and add a shot of espresso than ordering the double threat special.”

“Young man, I’ve been drinking coffee since before you were born. Please, don’t tell me what to order. I asked for what I asked.”

Tony’s already thin lips tightened further and he stamped the order into the computer. The woman stepped aside with a jerked nod. He tapped his finger against the counted.

“Can I please have just a black coffee. Small, please.”

Peter stood before him wearing the same backpack. His head was pointed down but Tony could tell the kid was smirking. 

“Something funny?” He said mirroring the expression of the woman before. Lips tight and puckered with eyebrows raised at the incompetence of a local barista. 

The kid’s smile shifted wider and a giggled flowed from his mouth. 

“No.” He said but his smile widened as they spied the woman pacing back and forth on the other side of the café. Her eyes glued to the pair of them as they laughed like conspirators in some great plot. 

Peter counted out the three dollars and thirty-five cents for his coffee and slipped an extra dollar in. Tony offered the money back, not sure exactly how to tell the kid he didn’t need it nor want it. 

At his insistence it ended squished next to the other dollar he received the night before in the front pocket of his apron. It appeared the kid had a stubborn streak.

Peter settled in the same corner seat by the window, pulled out his laptop and got to work. Everything besides the slight stoop in the kid’s shoulders went the same as the previous night.

The shop emptied around the same time besides a few people doing some work. Doug was in the back taking inventory and going over the books, and Tony was wiping down the counters. He paused every so often to take a lap around the store. The window was covered in some type of paint advertising their specials. Through the paint strokes he could see the bare sidewalk and noticed the vacancy signs across the street. 

Someone coughed and he began his trek back to the register. Peter was sitting hunched over his laptop. The sounds of sighs and clicking greeted Tony as he walked forward. He stood a few feet away behind the kid and watched the words appear on the cracked computer screen. 

He startled back into his seat at the sound of more coffee being poured into his cup. The action earned himself a frown which, at a wave from Tony, turned into a soft smile. 

He counted it as a win. 

“What are you working on, kid?” He asked.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. A piece stuck up in the back and Tony bit his tongue so he didn’t say anything. 

“School’s just…” He waved his hand, grappling for the right word

“Hell?” Tony guessed. The kid nodded. His eyes took on a vacant quality as he stared at the screen. He coughed and Peter looked back at him with flushed cheeks. 

“That would be an understatement.” He sighed again. Tony remembered the late nights and ever-present angst bubbling under his skin. That itch to learn and be better; be something more. He could see the same drive in Peter. How though he paid in quarters he shoved extra money in the stack for a tip. The way his back curled as the night progressed but still he continued working. 

Something in this kid spoke to Tony.

Maybe he was crazy but maybe this was one of the reasons he’d found The Split Bean. 

Tony reached out and put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. He patted it once and let go before swiveling the chair to face Peter. The coffee put went on the table and Tony braced his hands under his chin. 

“Lay it on me, kid. I’ve picked up a few things along the way and might be able to help.”

Peter bit his lip and after glancing back and forth between his laptop and Tony, turned the screen around to face him. Tony brought it closer. Formulas and the principles of physics glared back. 

“Ah, these ones are little bastards, but if you look at them this way then it should make more sense.” He pointed to the screen and moved some parts of the equation around before launching into an explanation at a small nod from the kid. 

Soon they were necks deep in physics and relativistic effects. More coffee was poured and the two of them were sucked into the world of high school science, though this was much more difficult than Tony remembered at his school. 

The kid hung onto his every word. It was almost amusing to see Peter try to decide whether to keep his attention on Tony or write verbatim everything Tony was saying down on his notebook. His head whipped back and forth as they continued the impromptu lesson. 

Costumers came and went but because it was so late, or early depending on how you looked at it, they were few and far between. Tony got up to serve them and as he made his way back to the corner table couldn’t help the smile cross his face at Peter waiting for him. 

The kid packed up around the end of his shift. This time Peter was the one to give a farewell and waved as he walked out the door. He thanked Tony for the help, shuffling his feet on the rug leading out and with a small wave was out the door. 

The same process repeated for the next week. The kid, as he was beginning to realize, was polite in a reserved manner and laughed at Tony’s poor attempts at making a joke. Each time Tony refilled his cup the frown and protests would recede quicker and an automatic smile on Tony’s arrival replaced them before long. 

There would come a time when the shop emptied out and everyone had their drinks. It was then Tony would make his way over to the table and see if the kid needed any help. So far, they’d covered not only physics but some chemistry. They’d stepped into the world of Shakespeare one morning. 

It was another regular day when Peter made a request of Tony that knocked the breath from his chest. 

They were sitting around the table in their usual seats. The coffee was poured and Tony tapped the coin through the material of his pants. 

Peter hadn’t laughed at the joke he’d made with the order. He didn’t even smile and his money scattered on the floor when he tried to count out the change.

“Everything okay tonight?” He asked. The kid glanced up with wide eyes and nodded before moving to his spot. Not a word was spoken between them besides that. 

He was quiet as Tony explained what a massless particle was, not writing any notes down. 

Tony stopped talking and leaned forward. 

“What’s the matter?” He said. If only the kid would look at him. 

Peter played with his napkin and rocked back in his chair. Tony had the urge to reach over and gentle the chair down. 

The kid mumbled something and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and despite the knot growing in his stomach Tony smiled at the patch of hair sticking straight up again. Peter grasped the table and finally his wide eyes met Tony’s. 

“Okay. This is weird. Like really weird, but I don’t have anyone else. May’s busy and, well, you’ve been great. I mean not the typical barista and see there’s this thing at my school and…” He paused to catch his breath. “Did you get any of that?”

“Not a damn word, kid. Who’s May?”

Peter smiled.

“May’s my aunt. She raised me and she’s working so she can’t make it but I hoped, and I know I’m overstepping my bounds as costumer, that you could help… possible?”

Tony had a million questions, demands, of the poor kid but he saw the wide set; the hope in Peter’s eyes and knew they could wait. 

“Anything you need, Peter. Lay it on me.”

Peter nodded, serious, and folded the napkin in quarters.

“Would you come to career day at Midtown?” 

-

It was nice, strange, invigorating. All of the above. The small smile, the way the kid’s lips quirked to the side and his eyes lit up at him changed something in him. His chest felt lighter during those hours; his bones younger. 

And he was crazy because of it. 

Here he was working at a coffee shop but not any coffee shop. He was working at a café in Queens for an old man who could barely pick up the chairs anymore. That would have been enough for anyone but not Tony. No, there was the kid. This shy child whose smile was making his shift’s brighter and when he’d asked Tony to come to career day knowing only that he made coffee for a living. 

Well, who was Tony to say no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all doing well.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Tony Finds the Kid Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because even though Tony is a genius, math is not always math sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry my writing has been slow recently. I hope you are all doing well. Thank you for reading!
> 
> I think I'm going to write one more chapter from Peter's POV so look out for that :)

The kid sighed and nodded while folding the napkin over on itself again. He told Tony it was fine; he didn’t expect him to agree to his request when his fidgeting froze at Tony’s words and his eyes zeroed in on Tony. 

“Wait, you mean it?” The kid’s eyes grew so god damn big and full. Tony smiled and though his heart ached he answered in the affirmative. 

“Anytime, anyplace.” He said. 

“Oh, well, thank you! I mean really. I know this stuff is kind of boring but, like I said, it would be quick and easy. And… it would mean a lot to me.” 

Tony had no response to the statement besides the vague feeling of inadequacy rising up and nesting in his chest. He rubbed his collar trying to alleviate the sensation when the kid reached over and hugged him. Like a malfunction in hardware Tony froze unable to comprehend. He froze and under the warmth of the kid’s arms melted into the hug. 

He cleared his throat and they separated, going back to the work at hand and ignoring the static of awkwardness hovering in the air. 

Peter waited as he grabbed his phone from behind the counter and the two exited the café together. 

“I’m this way.” He said which was the opposite way Tony was heading. 

“Are you safe to get home?” 

“Yep, I live right around the corner.” 

Tony tried not to make a face at that statement. The kid said he was fine, but he reached into his pocket anyway. 

“Here’s my phone number. Call me if you need anything.” He said and handed Peter a Split Bean card with his phone number scrawled on it. 

“Good night. Thank you again!” Peter said over his shoulders. 

Tony watched as the kid walked down the street and disappeared into the night. He sighed and began walking the other way, ready to get some sleep. 

-

“I think we have to move the i over to this side of the equation.” 

They were circled around the corner table. Doug was behind the counter serving the morning crowd. Tony’s shift was over but the kid had a math test coming up. They were on their third cup of coffee each. 

“No, I swear my teacher said we have to do it this way.” 

Peter twisted the paper around to face him. In the margins he scrawled the process from when he’d been taught. It was the wrong way in Tony’s opinion.

“What kind of equation is that? You can’t just move the elements around at will. There are rules behind it.”

It was all wrong and Tony wrote it down again, pointing to his correction. Peter sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. His companion grasped the paper and turned it back around. The pen hovered over the page before diving forward and scribbling over Tony’s previous notes. 

“Chicken scratch is what that is.” Tony muttered at Peter’s triumphant smile. The equation balanced out and he was at a loss. “Math is math.” He stared at the paper, trying to convince himself that math was indeed as it was and always had been, and failing. 

“Anthony?” Peter said. 

“Kid, I honestly can say I don’t know what you did there and I’m almost scared to find out.”

Peter snorted and Tony’s eyes flew to the kid’s face. He covered his mouth but a giggle emerged soon after. Without meaning to Tony found himself laughing right along with Peter. 

The atmosphere was cozy, keeping the cool weather from the elements safely outside. Coffee smells and soft acoustic music filled the air while the rush came for their morning pickups before they went on with their days. Doug glanced over at the two of them. His beard angled upward as a smile swept over his face at his newest barista and customer talked in hush tones at his café.

-

He was late to work. Time kept moving faster and faster, and before he knew it his shift was supposed to start and he was stuck in a never-ending line of traffic. Evidently the city didn’t get the memo he needed to get to Queens. 

For once when Tony blamed the meetings for his time management failings it would be the truth. As with the city, his employees and board members didn’t get their memos either and he was stuck listening to… something. He’d have to remember to go over the minutes later to go over what he missed. 

There wasn’t enough time to take the subway so Tony was forced to drive. His least conspicuous car turned out to still turn heads and he wondered if he should invest in an undercover car. 

He parked in the poor excuse for a parking lot in the back and hurried into the building. 

“Hey Doug.” He shouted at the man settled back in his office. 

“Hey is for horses. How’s it going today?”

“Aches and pains, aches and pains.”

Doug rubbed his shoulder as Tony put on an apron and motioned for him to come in the office. 

Photos lined the walls. Some were old and yellowing at the edges while others were newer, showing off the coffee events they held at the Bean. Tony was featured in one. He was wearing a lobster costume next to Doug who was in a padded-out Captain America suit. Tony thought he got the better outfit out of it. 

His eyes wandered to a photo of a small bundle. 

“She’s beautiful” 

“Amelie, my daughter.” Doug said with a sparkle in his eye. “Poor thing cried for hours before we got there and then at the studio was as calm as ever. I wonder what goes on in their tiny baby brain” 

“I wouldn’t know.” Tony said. 

Doug stared at him, rubbing his fingers along the edges of his beard. His eyes didn’t lose any of the sparkle. 

“You never know. Maybe someday.” 

Tony cleared his throat. 

“So, what did you need me for.”

Doug shifted in his chair. He started straightening up some papers lying on the desk and Tony thought he was stalling.

“Well, you know I’ve been grateful for what you’ve been doing and all the staff really, but, um, this is rough, but the stores been slower than usual and would you mind waiting for a paycheck? Just until we get going in the next month or so.”

Tony was already nodding. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Doug. I’m good right now so concentrate on The Bean and not me. Make sure to put me last on the list, everyone else goes first.” 

Doug patted Tony’s hand.

“You’re a good kid.” He said and Tony’s throat closed up. 

He scrambled from the room after another round of poorly deserved gratitude from his boss and found his place behind the counter. There were many ideas of ways he could help The Bean and he started brainstorming. He could make an anonymous donation or a Stark Industries donation. He could do both. 

The plans were enough of a distraction that he failed to realize Peter hadn’t arrived at the café. He spent his whole shift glancing over his shoulder and peering through the window paint at the increasingly empty sidewalk. 

Where was Peter?

Tony was making Qadan’s drink when the day got worse. 

He spotted someone in a sweatshirt and backpack through the window, but they continued walking without looking up. The ache resonated through his chest at the sight of the back of the hoodie. 

His hands trembled. 

Cup, coffee, and ice all tumbled to the ground. 

“You okay, man?” His customer called out but Tony didn’t respond. 

He stepped from behind the counter and toward the door, placing a hand flat against the glass. His hands pricked at the cold but he opened and stepped out. 

“Peter!” He called out but the figure down the sidewalk didn’t stop. 

“Hey, kid?” Tony ran forward, the itching grew worse with every step. “Peter?” 

He reached his hand out and…it wasn’t the kid. A stranger scowled at him and stepped backward with his hands up to create space between them. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Whatever.” The stranger said and kept walking. Tony noticed the new stitching of the backpack. The crisp corners and strong straps of its material. 

He was left walking back to the store alone, but it didn’t give him that feeling like previous walks. 

Where was the kid? 

A more cynical portion of his mind said he was taking it too far. Someone as smart and capable as Peter couldn’t want help from someone like him; didn’t need someone to worry about him.

He shook off those thoughts and saw Qadan waiting for him.

“Sorry about that. Thought I saw someone.” He said, and ignoring the spilled drink went back to making the order. 

“No problem, Anthony.” He said. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tony handed the cup across the counter.

“And what about Sarnai?” He said. “She given up on you?”

“Not yet, not yet and I thank the stars every day. Three months until our second is blessed into this world.”

Tony whistled and stopped Qadan from reaching for his wallet. 

“Congrats again. Can’t wait to see the photos. It’s on the house. Thanks again for being patient.”  
The man smiled and stuck some money in the tip jar before waving and heading out.

Tony imagined his partner and children. A full house. Someone there for him. Children laughing and playing. 

The images were concrete. He could picture everything down the messy hallways and necessary times of hiding in the bathroom. Tempting as they were it didn’t sit right within himself. 

He’d never thought he would have children despite his father wanting to pass down the Stark legacy. A shudder rippled through him. The Stark legacy was something he never wanted to pass down; something no one deserved.

Still, there was something tugging at him. The images wouldn’t disappear entirely. 

His thoughts turned to Peter. 

And he promptly shook his head. 

The kid needed help and he was happy to provide. There was no need to look deeper into the matter. Often times life brought people into his life only to take them away at a moment’s notice and it was fine. His mother always told him to be thankful for what you had in the moment and as a child he lived by those words. The present was here and now, and he should be thankful for having that. But as he grew older he wondered if he wasn’t listening to his father speaking through his mom. If the shadows he felt creeping closer weren’t something he should run from instead of being thankful for. 

Before he knew it, Tony was walking back out back to his car, shift done for the morning. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street turning once, twice, and passing a bus stop. Someone stood waiting in the terminal. Their hood was pulled up blocking their face from view. 

He remembered the stranger from earlier. His chase and imagination getting away from him and saw the figure continue to look down, not moving. 

Tony drove by without stopping. 

He turned the corner, slowed down for a stop sign, and looked out his rear window. The street was empty behind him but his fingers tingled on the steering wheel.

The car idled.

Tony swore under his breath and turned the steering wheel. The lone figure wrapped in shadows played in the back of his mind. 

Lights flooded the bus stop and the figure raised a hand to their face to block the light. Tony gripped the steering. The straps of the backpack were worn to threads. 

“Are you okay?” He called out of the window rolling down. 

The figure stepped backward and Tony leaned forward to see further out the window. He caught sight of a spattering of freckles and brown mop of hair. 

“Peter?” He said. The figure startled forward and Peter stepped up to the car. 

“Anthony? Why are you- Is this your car?” 

Tony laughed and nodded.

“Sure is, kid. You need a ride?” Peter stepped back.

“Uh, no. It’s okay. No worries. I’m waiting for a bus and it should be coming… soon.” 

The sidewalk and streets were empty. Sun peaked out from over the buildings. The newly born rays lighting a sliver of where Peter was standing from behind. Tony raised a hand to block the sun out of his eyes.

“It’s not any inconvenience to me. I promise.” 

Peter hesitated and Tony unlocked the door. He reached over and unlatched the door, swinging it open. The kid looked around before sighing. With tiny paces, Peter stepped up to the curb and opened the door the rest of the way. His back was stiff as a board, parallel and not touching the leather seats in the car. 

“Habits die hard I suppose but can I get you anything to drink? I have…” He rummaged around in the middle console. “An emergency water bottle or a half full bag of Chex mix. Sorry, I know it’s not the best.”

“It’s okay. Thank you, but I’m good.” Peter said. His hood continued to stay up, blocking the kid’s face from view and Tony wasn’t sure what to do. 

Right.

“Where are you going? Keep going straight here?” 

Peter nodded and they continued in silence broken by Peter’s sparse directions. His eyes drifted from the road to the passenger seat. His back was hunched forward like it always was in the café, bent over books and papers, endlessly working. 

“So, uh, what are you up to?” He said and after a moment began again. “Is that weird? Am I allowed to ask?” 

Peter chuckled and a cough interrupted. His hands came up to cover his face, covering the little visibility Tony had. Low wheezes hissed up from his chest and out his mouth. The kid lowered his hand and reflected in the lights of the street Tony saw red. 

He hit the break, thankful no one was around his less than stellar driving. The seatbelts tightened against them and Peter whimpered from the pressure. Tony’s heart throbbed at the noise, at the splotches on the kid’s hand, the way he stood alone waiting for a bus that may never come. 

“Shit, kid. Are you bleeding?” 

“I’m fine.”

Tony gripped the steering wheel. Peter’s voice was low, tired and seemed too even compared to Tony’s higher pitched questions. 

“Your hand would say otherwise.” Tony said and Peter shrugged. “Look at me.” 

He said it soft and Tony could feel the heart pounding in his chest. This was Peter. The kid who looked to him for help, who had found his way to the cafe like Tony had. Why all the sudden was he not ready to accept help? Why was he hiding? 

“Peter, I only want to help. Let me see.” 

Peter’s hands were pale and stark against the blood as he reached for his hoodie. The material fell down to his back and after taking a breath Peter turned toward him allowing Tony to gaze at his face for the first time that night. 

His eyes were closed. 

One was squeezed tight, like he was nervous of Tony’s reaction. The other was swollen closed. Red and pink lined the enlarged skin. His nose was crusted over along the nostrils but a trail of fresh maroon dripped down onto his lip and down his chin. 

Tony swore and pulled to the side of the road. He couldn’t stop the trembling in his hands as he searched the console again. There had to be wipes or something in there to help but he came up empty. 

“Are you in pain? Can you move your eye? Is anything broken?” Questions tumbled from his mouth as his hands frantically rummaged around. He leant back into the seat and felt for the coin in his pocket, pulling it out and holding it between his fingers. 

Peter was silent but Tony could feel the eyes on him.

“I’m fine. It was just a minor disagreement between myself and some others.”

“As in more than one? That looks like more than a simple disagreement.”

Another shrug and Tony had to fight the urge to yell into oblivion. 

“Okay, what do I do?” He said to himself. “We need to get you to the hospital.” 

“No!” Peter said. “I don’t need to go there. It’s too expensive.” He said and Tony was about to offer, to say it didn’t matter when the kid added. “I’ve had worse anyway.”

And if that didn’t make Tony’s stomach clench. He stared at the steering wheel trying to think of something they could do.

Peter reached over the seats and laid a hand atop of Tony’s fidgeting ones. The kid squeezed once and held his palm up, leaving it up to Tony whether he would part with the trinket. Tony ran a thumb over the metal and dropped it into his outstretched hand. Peter brought it over in front of him to inspect it. 

There was only a barely perceptible widening of his eyes but none of the guilt or accusations Tony expected came. And though it was something he never wanted broadcasted to the world, in the car and under the guise of a barista with this particular person, he was glad someone knew of his continued recovery. He felt something loosen in his chest with the knowledge that Peter knew of his struggles.

“My- my uncle had one of these.” Peter muttered. He flipped the coin back and forth between his thumbs. “He used to carry it around in his pocket, take it out and let me hold it when I was nervous about something. Used to be about school a lot of the time, now I dig it out of its place on the mantel when I miss him.” 

Tony pushed the hand away. 

“You can hold it now.” He said.

Peter smiled and brought the coin back in front of him. Tony started the car and found the nearest store. The aisles were empty besides the woman behind the counter talking in quiet tones on the phone. Peter wandered behind him, feet dragging, as they made a beeline for the frozen section. A bag of peas, bottle of antiseptic, band aids, and a few snacks later the two were back in the car. 

Tony placed his hand against the side of the kid’s head to balance while his other hand swabbed the kids nose. He muttered an apology as the antiseptic wiped the crusted bits away and stung the raw wound underneath. Peter’s eye stared back at him. 

“Someone packed a good punch.” He commented. 

“I wish I could say ‘you should see the other guy’ but he had a killer right hook.”

“What, may I ask, caused this display of skills?” Tony pressed the peas onto the kids nose and motioned for him to hold it there. 

“It’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t get upset, but they don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

Peter shrugged again. Tony was beginning to realize why all his tutors hated the action when he was a kid. 

“They think I’m not good enough to go to Midtown. They think because May works two jobs that she’s stupid and I’m stupid because I’m there on a scholarship. I’ve been trying so hard to prove them wrong this year. I know I’m not stupid but I want to be the best. Then I found the café at random one night after walking for hours trying to come up with a solution. You were there and everything was going so well. But I was careless.” He sniffled. “I tried out for the decathlon team. I made it over them. Some of them were mad, I guess… wasn’t watching on my way home and they were there. They said I shouldn’t bother with school, that I should stay at home.”

Tony’s head spun at the whole rant… but he knew Peter wouldn’t give up so easily. 

“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere in there.”

Peter’s hands clenched over the coin. 

“I know I can prove them wrong. I will.”

Tony smiled. He tossed a bag of kettle chips over to Peter and started the car. Peter stared out the window and though he wanted to find those kids, he was beyond proud of the kid for not giving up. 

Tony thought back to his earlier daydream. Maybe they weren’t so far out of reach. Maybe they would just be a bit different than he imagined.

“You already are, kid.”

-

They sat in front of a building full of apartments. Balconies filled with barbeques, towels hanging off, and every type of plant imaginable protruded out from each home. The pea bag dripped condensation onto Peter’s hoodie and the seat of the car. 

The kid was talking, waving his arms around, about some test he took. A test they studied for a week ago in the café. 

Tony couldn’t help the warmth thrumming through his lungs. Peter was next to him; a little worse for wear but happy and wholly Peter. His eyes were wide. Enthusiasm brightened the dark brown. Tony rubbed his knuckles together to ease some of the tension of fisting them before. 

Peter waited for a response to something Tony didn’t hear. 

“You didn’t hear what I said, did you?” Peter laughed and Tony shrugged.

“Not a damn word.”

“Ah, that’s okay. You’ll just have to wait until next time to hear the story about how I almost broke into Oscorp the other day.”

Tony choked. Water clouded his eyes as he coughed, thumping his chest with his fist. 

“You did what?” He said not believing the kid would do something so reckless and hoping it wasn’t true. 

Peter’s hand was on the door and he clicked it open, glancing back with a shit-eating grin.

“Like I said. It will have to wait until next time.”

Tony sputtered and Peter tossed one leg out the car. He held up the pea bag but Tony put his hands up. 

“Keep them. I’m not a fan.”

Peter paused before turning around and facing Tony again. He reached across the middle of the car and before Tony knew it, the kid’s arms were wrapped around him. Again. 

It was just as warm and wonderful as before, though slightly less foreign. He returned the gesture without haste. His arms held Peter as tight as he could in a car. 

“Thank you.” Peter said. He slid out of the car, waving from the steps up the apartments. 

Tony looked up at an older couple watching from their balcony and smiled up at them before driving away. 

-

He paced from one end of the hall to the other. His hands hung at his sides and he stuck them into his pockets to keep from trembling. The halls felt like they were closing in on him. They were smaller than he remembered from his time in high school but then again, he was much younger, and shorter, than the typical student. 

He couldn’t believe he was here and doing this. There was no way he would ever get over that he was about to present his ‘career’. Not Stark Industries, the billion-dollar company, but his day job (night job really, he corrected) as a barista. 

There was something wrong other than the halls and coffee apron he wore. Something itched the back of his skin. He couldn’t stop walking. He was helpless against the urge to pace.

The whole endeavor was risky. He could be recognized at the very least. And then there was the real problem that he wanted to tell Peter the truth. He felt like it was time.

“Tell him what exactly?” He said to the hallow space. 

That he’d been lying. He was really someone else. Not Anthony but someone else entirely. Someone most people didn’t like. 

Someone Peter may not like. 

Those all set a knot twisting in his stomach but turning back to the classroom Tony had this vague notion it would be worse if he didn’t do it. He didn’t think he could see the look on Peter’s face when he found out about it all but it would be worse if one of his schoolmates knew first. 

The kid deserved better than the present filled with its shadows and uncertainties. He deserved the future too and all that came with it. Even if the future didn’t involve him. 

He hoped he would. 

Peter walked up to him and smiled. He ran a hand through his hair. The kid hugged him again and welcomed him to Midtown High School. Tony managed not to be a total inept person and hugged him back. 

“Ready to show us all how to make a flat white? I have this… friend I want to impress with this knowledge so I better learn something.”

Tony chuckled. 

“I can show you all the coffee skills, kid. I’m no amateur, you know.”

They made to walk into the classroom but something held him back. 

“Hey, Peter. Before we get this show going. Can we talk for a moment?”

Peter nodded and they stood in front of a bulletin board advertising soccer tryouts and the prom. 

“Look, this probably isn’t the best time but I have to… that is you deserve to know that…I’m not Anthony. Well, I am but I’m not who you think. And, well, my name is Tony Stark.” He stuck out his hand so they could shake and felt Peter slid his smaller hand in his. Tony looked up to find Peter smiling. 

The kid was smiling at his lie. 

“What?” He snapped. 

Peter laughed again and shrugged. 

“Anthony, I’ve known who you are since you gave me your phone nunder and if the card didn’t give you away, your car certainly tipped me off.”

Tony’s mouth opened then snapped shut as he regarded the smug quirk of Peter’s lips.

“That was a Bean card.”

Peter blushed. 

“I may or may not have hacked into your phone.”

“You what? How?”Peter shrugged. He cracked his fingers. “I’m impressed, kid. Not many could do that.”

“You looked familiar. I was curious and bored. It’s a dangerous combination.”

“I’m beginning to find out. Should I be upset? All I can bring myself to be is impressed with your dedication. Maybe you should come work for me?” 

He said. Half of an idea formed in his head and Peter was bouncing up and down. 

“So, kid. After me lying, of knowing who I was, you still want me to give a lecture of coffee or do you want Tony Stark, or even Iron Man?”

The palms of his hands began sweating. He couldn’t decide what answer would be worse. 

If the kid wanted Anthony or Tony. Iron Man or barista.

Of course, Peter gave the best answer he could have hoped for. 

The kid shrugged and slipped something into Tony’s hand. 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you are here. I’m happy. I’ll see you in there. Thanks for coming.” 

He gave Tony another hug and began walking back. 

Tony looked down to see the coin in his hand. He hadn’t realized Peter had never returned it until its familiar weight was back in his hand. He clenched it in his fist and jogged to catch up. Tony threw an arm over Peter’s shoulder, pulling the kid closer. 

“You know, I might take you up on that job offer.” Peter said, blushing and glancing at him from the corner of his eye. 

“First, I’ll have to fortify the Tower so we won’t get hacked again. Pepper will never let me live it down. A 15-year-old cracked into the ‘smartest’ building in the world.”

Peter leaned into his side and smiled up at Tony. 

He watched Peter taking notes from his seat in the front while he presented to the classroom. His pen, like all their hours at the café, barely paused on the surface in an effort to get everything he said down on the page.

Maybe he was crazy for being there. 

The past year of his life had been nothing but crazy. A split-second decision had landed him in The Split Bean.

Standing in front of a bunch of high school students Tony had never felt more himself. He could see their drive, a passion in their eyes, and admired them all for working so hard. 

He thought back to the hours spent with Peter, how they went over lessons and arithmetic. The time he spent during meetings brushing up on newer processes to be able to learn with Peter. 

Tony smiled again and slipped the coin into his pocket. Future plans and a new potential employee floated around in his mind. Of course, he would need to figure out a way to stop anymore bored and curious teenagers from hacking into his system before anyone else tried. Friday would have to be brought up to date as well and Peter… well, Tony was sure he had a place perfect for him.

Fate works in mysterious ways. Tony wasn’t sure who to thank for the small sprig that brought Peter into his life but he was going to work hard to make sure the kid was okay.

While everyone on Earth knew of his secret Identity as Iron Man. Peter Parker knew of his other secret identity as Anthony. A barista working at The Split Bean who learned that while math is not always constant, a good cup of coffee and friendship is unchangeable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. Tony Finds the Kid Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew Tony Stark had a fourth secret identity? One he didn’t even know about. Guardian Angel. 
> 
> Five times Tony Stark reveals his fourth secret Identity and one time Peter took up the mantel.

Tony wasn’t aware of how he got through the presentation. All that stuck with him was the solid weight of the coin in his pocket and the bright eyes on him. 

Hushed voices crowded around him as he stood in front of the room of teenagers, but Peter was there, sitting at a desk in the back of the classroom with that small smile on his face. It bled into his eyes and with that immovable expression, Tony felt like he could breathe again. 

The kid knew. 

Against everything – or maybe it was because of everything – Peter knew who he was. 

In the beginning, Tony had thought his secret identity was freeing. He could become someone he wasn’t allowed to be in his normal life. Anthony could walk at all hours of the night in public, get a part-time job, and serve people some delicious coffee. Tony Stark would never do any of that but there was a downside too. He wasn’t just Anthony. He wasn’t one of the other. Until now he hadn’t realized how stifling it was to live in pieces. 

It felt like he was a teenager again and it wasn’t because he had left a room full of them a moment ago. The world had pivoted. Maybe it was only a fraction of a measurement but he could feel the change in his bones. The world changed somehow. It was once again full of possibilities. He had the power to decide once again, though he wasn’t sure how he lost it to begin with. His hands itched with a need to tinker. 

As Tony walked down the halls toward the offices, he thought of all the forces working in his life. All those split-second decisions. The endless walking, his ongoing recovery, The Split Bean. All of it had seem like mere desperation. Like he was trying to overcome something. Now he could see that wasn’t it at all. 

He sagged against the white brick of the school. His phone was a mess. The presentation was filmed and uploaded before he could warn anyone at the tower. Pepper called. Rhodey called. Hell, even Happy called. 

Why is Tony Stark at midtown High School? 

Article after article asked the question with no apparent answer. 

He chuckled to himself and shoved the device back in his pocket before running a hand down his goatee. 

It was time to be proactive. Tony nodded to himself and stepped through the door on the other side of the hallway. 

A frazzled looking woman came out of the office phone in hand. He knew the moment her eyes landed on his when a gasp escaped her. 

“Mr. Stark, Sir?” She asked. 

Tony smiled at her and nodded. Time to put some of these plans in action. 

“I was wondering if I could talk to the principal, Ms. Lessenger?” 

First things first, there was nothing more he hated than a bully. 

-

Tony smiled to himself as he leaned back into the couch. Step one of the plan was complete. If the stoic principal held out against his charm then he was putty by the time Tony was done with his second presentation of the day. He could admit to himself, hours later, that owning a global tech company had some advantages. One such was the videos of the incident with Peter was alarmingly easy to find. Though his hands ached from clenching them. The echo of Peter’s head hitting the sidewalk wasn’t a sound that linger for too long. 

He shook his head and tried to think of the Flash boy’s expression when he learned he wasn’t getting away with it any longer. It wasn’t enough, he didn’t think anything would be, but it was a start. 

It was time to move onto step two. Pepper was due to arrive any moment. On cue the elevator dinged. Tony grabbed her coat to hang up. 

“Tony, oh, thank you.” 

They sat on opposite sides of the coffee table. Each on a different couch. Despite the earlier motivation, Tony felt a tinge of nerves run down his spine. His gaze landed on the stack of papers placed on the coffee table. 

Pepper leaned forward to try and read what they said but Tony began talking. Her eyes flew to his face with an open expression. Pepper had always been there for him. Despite the hell he put her through she never lacked and her work ethic was a thing of magnificence. 

“I want to change leadership at Stark Industries.” He said and watched with a small grin at the way her jaw dropped before she got a hold of herself. Her eyes narrowed in the way he loved. 

It was time to move on. It was time for her to shine. 

-

Now for the tricky part. The part of the plan he wasn’t looking forward too. 

Tony entered The Bean from the back as always but instead of going to find a clean apron and heading to behind the counter he stopped to find Doug. 

he slowed his search on the way, stopping to look at the art drown on the walls and windows. The winter scapes that brought images of warmth and joy instead of the frigid weather outside. He smiled at his poor attempt at drawing a snowman. 

Tony continued on and knocked on the outer molding of the door. Doug looked up from his desk and waved him in. He settled into one of the chairs in front of the desk and took the time to inspect his boss. His beard was brushed down and waxed into place but what caught Tony’s eye was the pictures behind him. His face featured in many of them and Tony smiled despite knowing what he was going to say. 

They sat in silence until Tony took a breath in and smiled at his boss. 

He grabbed an envelope from his pocket and slide it across the desk. 

“I’m here to turn in my resignation.” 

-

The kid was late. 

Tony waited at their table switching between staring out the window and glancing at his phone. Two coffees sat in front of him. The steam coming off of them long cool. He stopped the urge to check his phone again. 

He looked around at the new additions to the Bean. Doug was training two new faces on how to run the glistening espresso machines that arrived that week. Tony had passed the new sign complete with the Bean’s logo on the way there. 

There were rumors of an angel visiting the café. Some anonymous benefactor had taken a liking to the coffee shop and donated enough to bail it out of the trouble Doug hadn’t really told anyone about. Tony wasn’t sure if angel would be the most accurate name but he wasn’t about to reveal his involvement.

Someone cleared their throat and Tony’s head snapped up. Peter stood there all bright eyes and smiles. His chest loosened as the kid sat down, taking his cup from the middle of the table and downing a third in one sip. 

They’d been making these weekly trips to the Bean ever since the presentation. Though they said weekly, it ended up being almost every other day. The habit was good for Tony, kept him out of trouble while letting him feel the freedom of the city and visit his people here. 

He pulled up the file on his phone and pushed it across the table. Peter began reading. The light illuminating his pupils so they looked like they were on fire. 

“So, kid. I have a proposition for you… How would you like an internship at Stark Industries?”

-

Tony straightened his tie in the warped reflection of the lockers.

Here he was almost four years later at Midtown High. It made him feel old to be back here in the high school halls. Had it really been so long since he had first been here or even heard of it at the Bean? Time flew by too quickly. 

“Anthony?” Peter called out from down the hall. Tony finished fixing his suit and met him down the hall. The kid’s graduation gown fell to the floor, a few inches too long. His cap in his left hand with the tassel hanging down. 

“Well, don’t we clean up nicely.” He said ruffling the kid’s hair. Peter laughed and ducked his head. 

“Yeah, well. May would kill me otherwise.” 

“We wouldn’t want that would we?” 

They walked through the halls. Laughter and conversation growing louder the closer they got to the auditorium. 

“So, are you ready?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve been giving speeches since before you were born. I think I can handle a graduation speech.” He laughed at Peter trying to count back far enough. “Hey, hey. It’s not that far.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” They were almost there. “You know what you’re going to say?”

“Yes, I’ve been working on something. It’s your day, Peter. I won’t screw it up.” 

Peter paused and Tony stopped next to him. The kid’s face was unusually serious. One he hadn’t seen often in the time they knew each other. Peter rolled up his sleeves up only for them to fall back down. He was struck again, so like when they first met, with the hope in his eyes. Not expectant hope as it had been before but a quiet one, an expression that spoke of trust and understanding. 

“Thank you for being here.” 

Tony smiled at him and pulled him into a hug grateful after all these years of where the journey had taken him and hopeful for where he still had to go. 

-

Peter wasn’t sure what drove him out that night. It might have been the empty apartment or it might have been his desk full of homework and papers. His escape into the night probably was a mixture of both. A run away from the emptiness and his thoughts. A run to somewhere to hide. 

In the end, he supposed, it didn’t matter. 

Peter forced himself out of bed. He threw on the first hoodie he found lying on the ground, grabbed his backpack, and walked into the night. Street by street he searched for somewhere and finally, when exhaustion set in, Peter turned to head back home. And passed by this small café. 

There wasn’t anything to recommend it. The outside was average and the inside looked normal. There were paintings of giant coffee drinks of the day and a wall full of photos but that was about it. Peter smirked at one filled with outrageous costumes, a faux Captain America in an ill-fitting spandex smiled back at him from the wall.

He continued to look around the coffee shop as he waited in line. People, both in groups and in solitude, milled around the space. Most of them sat huddled and immersed with the screens in front of them but others were reading and talking in quiet tones. He noted the soft music tones filtering through the chairs and nodded his head to the tune when he spied an empty table. Tucked away in one of the corners, Peter could see the chipped top and worn edges. It was next to the window and through it he could see the painted sidewalk. 

It was perfect. 

Someone cleared their throat. Peter’s eyes darted forward and on seeing the barista waiting, quickly searched the menu, glazing past all the teas. He would need something stronger for the night. It was a large menu. Peter glanced at the man and back at the list, pulling on his sleeve. 

They say hindsight is twenty-twenty and, looking back on it now, Peter could confirm. He should have noticed the goatee and famous smile, but like most people his immersion in his own life clouded his vision and Peter failed to see what was in front of him. 

As he studied the many versions caffeine he could ingest he felt a vague sense of familiarness. Like watching cartoons on a Sunday morning in his apartment with May. It was absurd but it was there. So, when the man asked what he wanted to order Peter mumbled something that sounded incoherent to himself but the man answered with a cocky smile as if he knew exactly what Peter was thinking. 

“And can I see some ID?” His face was blank and so lifeless from the smile only moments before. Peter panicked. He wasn’t twenty-one. There was no way anyone would believe that by looking at him. Did he order something with alcohol? Was he going to be arrested? 

Heedless of the unending questions in his brain, his fingers flexed to his pockets ready to produce his ID no matter how strange the request was. Embarrassed heat rose on his cheeks when the man spoke of his jest. It felt like he barely survived the encounter as he wobbled to his table. 

His laptop groaned awake. Tapping on the screen barely got it moving. Peter reminded himself not to beat it up too badly because it was his only way to do school work. Hours passed. He sipped the drink slowly, hoping to lengthen its effects. His eyes were heavy and rebelling against the long list of things he had to do. Every minute or so they would close against his will. Peter’s back would bend forward and he would find himself nodding off. His cup was empty and he didn’t have any more money, but he had more to do. 

Peter was just about to pack up homework be damned when he looked to see the barista from earlier pouring more into his cup. The man begged off Peter’s refusal like it was nothing. Like it was his job to give out free stuff. 

It was just what he needed. The coffee’s dark amber reflected his eyes as he chugged a portion before saving the rest. Peter thanked whatever coffee god was out there. His eyes slide over to the barista wiping down a table across the room. 

There was something about him. Something Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on that was familiar. After a few minutes he decided it was in the way he moved. That almost arrogant confidence in his gait. He laughed with the costumers and smiled when needed. It was charming how seriously he took his job, what pride he took in it. But Peter watched as those expressions faded when the line was gone and the costumers left. Early into the morning he found himself looking in between homework. He saw the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the slight shaking in his fingers so at odds with his outer demeanor. 

The man’s smile dropped as a customer walked out the door. His cheery thanks still hung in the air. It was an expression, a façade, that Ben wore all too frequently. Peter’s heart ached as he thought of his uncle. The days he would come home after work and sit at the table, flipping the coin in between his fingers. Worse still were the nights he didn’t come home. The next day his fingers would be shaking and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Peter’s. He could see the similarities and he felt for the barista who was trying so hard to smile. 

Did anyone else see what he did? Could anyone see the unhappy under all the artificial expressions of joy?

There were no answers yet but as Peter sat, refilled coffee on hand, as he worked through his never-ending homework, his eyes drifted back to the man. As he walked out the cheery goodbye both warmed his heart and tugged at it. 

The subway car hummed around him, lulling him into a brief nap before school. The dregs of coffee in the bottom of his cup were room temperature. Peter smiled as his head dipped to his chest. 

He would go back to the Split Bean. He wasn’t sure what he would do, what he could do, specifically, but Peter knew he had to go back. Peter had to make sure the barista, Anthony, was alright. In reality Peter knew he probably couldn’t do anything but he remembered the times of him and Ben just sitting at the table. They didn’t really speak or do anything special, just sat there together and Ben’s smile would be real after that. Somehow Peter wanted to do the same thing. It was what Ben would have wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: The name 'The Split Bean' was a tiny easter egg to my very first fan fiction [Someone to Care](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560182/chapters/43993270)
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr at [Elizabeth-234](https://elizabeth-234.tumblr.com).
> 
> I hope you liked this!! Please let me know your thoughts! :)


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